Trying Not To
by Akabeko
Summary: Leon awakes to find himself in an unusual situation. LeonD.


A gift for Cienna from TingTingand the evil minions that live in her brain.

Shonen-ai PWP ahead so begone if you don't like or are too young for such things.

Pet Shop of Horrors is not mine and never will be.

Comments and concrit welcome and appreciated.

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**Trying Not To**

With a decidedly undignified grunt Leon awoke to a blurry world of rich colour and incense. That was his first clue that something was amiss.

Usually when he woke up, there was the grey and sickly green of the walls of his mouldy apartment, and the smell of rotting eggs and damp, old socks. A noxious combination at best. But not this morning. The detective rubbed his eyes and slowly the image of that all-too-well-known pet shop came into focus, if still a little blurred at the edges. He wondered at that; perhaps the Count had finally grown tired of him always poking into his business and had finally decided to get rid of him by poisoning that tea he always served. Sneaky, Leon thought absently. But really, that didn't make sense, seeing as he had woken up and all. And it looked like dawn. That was odd too. Didn't they usually have tea in the afternoon? But it was definitely dawn. The light streaming into the shop was that particular kind of orange-red. Leon had seen it enough times when he'd been on duty all night to recognize it well. And he could hear the twittering of birds too. That usually meant dawn. Then he remembered he was in a pet shop.

Something else was out of place too; he felt warm. Really warm. There was something alive beside him on the long couch. He could feel it lying against him, breathing rhythmically. Leon thought for a moment that he had somehow managed to end up cuddling one of D's many animals in his sleep, but they all seemed to want to bite him rather than hug him. And he had the sinking feeling that the being beside him was human. One look down at the hand laying lazily on his chest confirmed the suspicion.

There was no denying it now; D was curled tightly against the side of his body looking somewhat disheveled but contented. And Leon's arm was cast around the other man's shoulders. How they had got into this position he could not remember, though a hazy memory of warm tea on his lips and delicate hands on his thighs made him wonder if he was better off not knowing.

Leon pushed the dissolute memories aside and focused on his current predicament. Or at least, he tried to. His brain did not seem to be in on the plan, but was rather doing a very good impression of a large iron bell; heavy, empty and ringing _very_ loudly. All the telltale signs of a night of heavy drinking.

Looking around the room he found more evidence of an evening spent in the company of a bottle...or seven, of the unholy liquid. Two half empty glasses sat amongst a veritable sea of empty liquor bottles on the Count's fine antique coffee table. Leon wondered idly where all the booze had come from, before his stomach churned uncomfortably and knew if he did not get some coffee soon he would spend the day with one spectacular hangover. Even so, Leon did not want to wake D, who seemed quite comfortable despite the fact that half of him was hanging over the edge of the seat and his head was propped up at a strange angle in the crook of Leon's neck.

Curious, Leon bent down to sniff at the Count. He could not ever remember D drinking before, and wondered if perhaps the man had just been plying Leon with alcohol all night to get him into his...couch. But no, D reeked of tequila and vodka and there was whisky there and...oh god the ever-present smell of tea was _still_ there. Despite all that, Leon thought incredulously, D _still_ managed to smell _good_. The detective was under no illusions that his breath would be any more appealing than refuse from the fiery pits of hell itself. Well, maybe he was exaggerating slightly, but he distinctly remembered a former girlfriend once gagging at his morning-breath. Best not kiss D before coffee and possibly cleaning his mouth out with industrial paint stripper.

Leon paused. Had he just thought about kissing D? Now that he thought about it, the Count really was rather close, and they both were somewhat unclothed. Not naked, mind you, but Leon only seemed to be wearing his underwear and D seemed to have managed to retain only his loose trousers. Strange, Leon thought, that he had not noticed this fact before. But then, it wasn't like his brain was really with it. Then, an image of D straddling him on this very couch, running his hands down his bare chest and his mouth at his throat, pushed its way unbidden into Leon's mind and he felt his body twitch in response. Yes, he had the distinct impression he was beginning to understand just what had happened the night before. Well, after the drinking part anyway. No memories struck him from before the fact; the image of a de-robed and wonton D writhing above him was proving quite distracting.

Shaking his head dismissively, Leon tried to remember how he had ended up in the pet shop in the first place. And ended up doing unspeakable things with another man. D _must _have slipped him something, he thought (and in a moment of teenage humour, couldn't help but snicker). Then again, this was D and D had...really nice hands. Which, if Leon's memory was not mistaken, had done some quite interesting things to him last night. And hair; fine, velvety hair that he could feel splayed on his bare chest now. Leon finally gave in with a sigh and looked down at the man squeezed up against his side. There was not denying it, Leon thought. D really was beautiful... handsome... beautiful... whatever. He looked good. Just looking at him like this, laying on his arm, the feel of his body, his hair and his breath on him, Leon could think of worse people he had woken up with after a night of heavy drinking. No, he had definitely wanted it to happen. Thinking back now, he had wanted D in a way perhaps he shouldn't have for some time. The raunchy daydreams he had begun having some months ago were a dead give-way, so there really was no point denying it. With a sudden pang of apprehension he wondered, though, how D would take it when he found himself strewn over a man he so often professed to dislike. Still, D had yet to so much as stir, so Leon had time to think of a plausible explanation for their current position.

Ten minutes later and still nothing even vaguely passable had come to mind. Well anyway, Leon thought defensively. It wasn't like it was just _his_ fault. D had, after all, been the one straddling him and touching him in places he had once been quite sure no other man would ever go. D had indeed changed him a lot, and even though Leon _was_ still suspicious of the man, there was something about him which he found... attractive. Like a moth to a flame, perhaps? Leon thought dryly. Or one of those male spiders that got eaten by their female mate, and Leon found himself with the disturbing image of D eating him with elongated black legs, laughing manically as he enjoyed a tasty bite of earlobe. He shivered, and the sudden movement seemed to dislodge D from his precarious balancing act on the edge of the chair. Feeling the other man's body begin to roll away, Leon quickly reached over with his other arm to stop D from falling onto the floor. This placed him in the even more suspect position of holding the Count firmly in his arms.

"Leon?" D murmured sleepily, his eyes still closed. Leon froze.

"Yeah?" he said, as nonchalantly as possible. After all, he thought, there was a perfectly good reason why he and D were lying together on a sofa. He just hadn't figured it out yet.

"Why are you holding me?" D's voice was muffled against Leon's chest, the movement of his lips and the breath of air against his skin sending tingling sensations down Leon's spine.

"You were about to fall off the chair." An honest answer, Leon thought, even if he was maybe enjoying the sensation a little more than he might have liked. D made no reply, but he made no move either. It wasn't like D seemed at all shocked by his waking discovery, or even seemed mildly concerned. If anything, he'd say D seemed contently relaxed, and Leon wasn't about to argue with that. He just hoped D didn't ask him how they had ended up on the sofa together.

In his arms, D sighed a little and opened his eyes. Leon watched as his strange, piercing eyes took in his surroundings, himself, and finally Leon. He was sure D's eyes had lingered on his chest. Then those eyes met with his own, and D was frowning slightly, as though something curious had just occurred to him.

"I seem to be in a state of undress." D paused, his eyes flicking momentarily back to Leon's chest. "As do you." Another pause, then a smile, little more than a quirking of the lips, and D studied him closely from half-closed eyes. The look somehow brought back the image of spider-D eating his flesh. Leon shivered.

"Did we make love last night?" D asked, his voice low and there was a definite hint of amusement there which should have made Leon feel offended, but rather he felt himself blush.

"Er…" he stammered, and inwardly chastised himself for being so childishly embarrassed. D was the only person Leon had ever known who could make him feel unsure of himself. "I don't know," he replied, trying to sound confident and not at all flustered. The smirk on D's face clearly told him he had failed on both counts.

"Hmm," D said thoughtfully, and lifted his head a little to turn and look at the bottle-strewn table behind him. Leon felt his breath hitch slightly as D's hand slid up his chest on the pretext of better stability. He heard D laugh.

"We were rather thirsty last night." Then his face was turned back to Leon. "I wonder how that could have happened." It was that knowing, teasing tone that pissed Leon off so much, and all the detective wanted to do was wipe that damned annoying smirk off D's pretty face. So he crushed the man more firmly in his arms, bringing him down to meet his lips, and thought then that if he was cursed to endure D then he might as well make the most of it. D was making small noises, in his mouth, like he was protesting or something, but nobody who didn't want to be kissed pressed their tongue impatiently into the other's mouth. Or let their hand stroke feather light down a person's chest towards their underwear. Well, thought Leon, if they hadn't done anything last night (which he highly doubted) then he would rectify that this morning, if only to show the damned Count who was in charge here.

"My dear detective," D laughed gently, his lips now resting against Leon's throat. "I do believe you are taking liberties." Leon scoffed.

"I don't see you complaining," he said and looked pointedly down at D's wandering hand. D's smile widened impossibly and he levered himself up to lie on top of Leon, that wandering hand now trapped hotly between them. D lifted his head to look down at the detective.

"I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea," he teased, and let his hand snake further down to rest on the fabric of Leon's underwear, which just right now was becoming rather uncomfortably tight. Leon squirmed under D, wondering what exactly he had got himself in for and how the _fuck_ he had thought that kissing D was a good idea. What was it he had been trying to prove again? But really, it didn't seem to matter anyway now that D seemed to be gently rubbing _there_ with an almost predatory look in his eyes that Leon vaguely remembered seeing the night before.

"No ideas at all…" Leon breathed, finding it increasingly difficult to talk, and easier to focus on D's face before him, and on the feel of naked flesh on his hands, resting on D's back. Then D's face was so close he was all he could smell, and all he could see, D's black hair curtaining the rest of the world from his view. Slowly, so painfully slowly, D lowered his head until their lips were a breath apart.

"I wonder," D almost whispered. "This does feel familiar, wouldn't you agree?" Leon nodded slightly.

"Um," he agreed.

"We should see what else we might have got up to."

"Good idea," Leon agreed again, but didn't really care what D did just so long as he didn't stop what he was doing now. He closed his eyes and heard himself moan quietly in pleasure. And then Leon could taste D's tongue in his mouth, and met it with enthusiasm, pressing his hands harder against hot, soft skin. He felt D's legs slide down his thighs, then he was pulling away, straddling Leon, and his hands drawing away back up his chest. Leon opened his eyes and stared at D, trying not to look too needy, or bitter at the removal of D's hand. The Count just smiled back at him, his eyes dancing with amusement as though he knew what Leon was thinking anyway.

"Oh yes." Leon thought it almost sounded like a purr, which, he thought idly, was somehow appropriate for the Count. "This is certainly familiar." The next think Leon knew, D's mouth was on his chest, licking his way down, raking his long nails almost-painfully down his sides.

"Ah…D…," Leon gasped, entwining his fingers in D's dark hair and feeling his arousal aching, recalling now where this had led the night before, in blurred images of D's mouth around him, licking, sucking, drinking him in, and remembered feelings almost too euphoric to bear. The memory itself only served to excite him further, and he found himself thrusting into D's touch, the heat between his legs burning.

D was chuckling to himself, leering down at Leon's underwear, brushing his lips lightly upon their contents. His hands gripped the waist, but stayed poised and teasing. Leon moaned in anticipation and impatience.

"D," he ground out, gritting his teeth in irritation. "Will you get ON with it!" Not exactly romantic, but then none of this was. It was…sensuous, pleasurable and, Leon thought, almost like another one of their arguments in sex-form. The look on D's face, amusement, a sort of smug superiority and something like triumph, confirmed it. But before he could think any more, D had pulled down his underwear and had his mouth poised before Leon, eyes now filled with hunger. Leon watched D, entranced, feeling every breath D took race from that point to his brain, filling his whole body with pleasured shocks as he went. Then he saw, and he felt, D's tongue on him, swirling around the head painfully slowly, almost not touching at all. Leon couldn't recall things being quite so controlled and…_ teasing_ the night before. Then it had been all heat and pure lust and drunken mess and…oh god now Leon remembered it, and there again there was the memory of how it felt to be in D's mouth. His body twitched involuntarily up towards D, and he knew he was begging now.

A moment longer, two, three, tongue pressed with greater pressure against the side and sliding upwards, encircling almost possessively. A pause, then D's mouth took him in. Leon couldn't watch anymore. His brain was about ready to explode just from the anticipation. He let his head fall back against the edge of the chair and closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. D's mouth, D's tongue, wet and warm and all on him. Leon moaned and grasped the seat, screwing his eyes shut so tight small stars danced erotically before his vision, knowing he couldn't last much longer. Breathing heavily, erratically, he gasped as D took him all the way to the hilt then slid away, tongue lapping at him all the time. He bucked his hips unapologetically, trying desperately to feel more of D, to get more of himself inside of D, to feel more of that liquid, burning heat. With a final thrust of his hips he came, and ached and ached as D didn't stop. In his own ears he heard himself cry out in desperate pleasure, before sinking back into the seat, his head aching and his sex still warm in D's mouth. With a final lick, D raised his head and looked up at Leon, licking his lips almost mockingly.

"Why, Detective," he said, smiling again in what to Leon looked like smug satisfaction. "I don't remember you being that loud last night."

"And I don't remember you being so much of a fucking tease," Leon retorted breathlessly. D just lay himself down on Leon's chest again and kissed him gently.

"Where's the fun if I didn't," he teased. Leon snorted. "You are far too easy to please, Leon!" he laughed.

" I think I should be insulted," Leon said, but let his hands wander appreciatively all the same along D's sides and over his back. D laughed again, then lowered his head so that he could whisper into Leon's ear.

"What is insulting," he said, "is how I have yet to be satisfied." D raised himself up to look down at Leon who was now grinning insanely. In a moment of lustful need, Leon pulled D down for another long, heady kiss, thinking, now he could show the other man who was in charge.


End file.
